


CarrierStuck

by Saesama



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Bohemian Rhapsody, Emetophobia, Gen, Humanstuck, Naval Traditions, Navy, One Night Stands, Prank Wars, Return to Home Port, coming back to America is Bizarre, dead baby jokes, find them all for fun and profit, lets stick everyone on an aircraft carrier, sassy gay wingman, shaving cream, there's going to be a bunch of background pairings, weird twin bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deployment is what happens when you and five thousand of your closest friends pile into a floating city and do laps in the Persian Gulf for months on end. Includes foreign booze, jet planes, and the best friends you've ever had.</p><p>Boot Camp didn't prepare you for this.</p><p>(Complete)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

You were going to throw up.

You were tired and sore and sick to your stomach and crammed into a helmet and a vest in the back of a tiny cargo plane - a cod, whatever that meant - and you were going to throw up.

The plane ride from Seatac to DC had been fine. The trip from DC to Turkey had been the longest twelve hours of you life, but fine. The short hop from Turkey to Bahrain had been fine. The van ride from the Manama airport to the US Navy base had been terrifying. But four hours of sleep in a barracks room and a greasy breakfast were kicking your ass all over the place.

Plus, you didn't even get to sight-see in Bahrain. You got checked into the barracks at 2200 and woken up at 0500 and told that your cod - you really needed to figure out what that meant, was it a fish reference? - got moved up by a day. Another scary van trip and a safety brief later and there you were, with uncomfortable goggles mooshed down over your glasses and a lumpy vest that was supposed to inflate if you hit water and a plastic baggie between your knees for when your breakfast inevitably reappeared. The cod was so noisy you couldn't hear yourself think, let alone talk, and it was freezing cold and it banked into a low, slow turn that made your stomach flip and you groaned and leaned your head against the tiny window.

The guy next to you nudged you, and when you gave him a bleary look, he pointed out the window. You looked, and you _stared_.

She was magnificent, and your mind tumbled over the facts you had looked up as soon as you got your orders. Four-point-three acres of sovereign US territory. Seventeen habitable stories from keel to mast, with an extra sixty feet of voids and bilges and antennas. A giant red-white-blue '72' decorated the side of the tower - the island, that was called the island - and a flock of people in a rainbow of colored shirts scurried across the flat top. While you watched, a fighter jet came screaming in for a landing.

The USS Abraham Lincoln. The fifth nuclear-powered supercarrier in the United States Navy, homeported in Everett, Washington.

Your new home.

Your name was Seaman Apprentice John Egbert, and you'd forgotten all about throwing up.


	2. Welcome Aboard

You threw up.

You almost made it, but when the cod made its last turn before approaching the ship, your belly turned with it. The guy beside you - older, probably a chief or an officer, _shit_ \- gave you a sympathetic grin that you returned weakly as you tied off your baggie of puke. Just in time, too, because you almost lost your grip when the cod came to a very abrupt and bumpy stop and you were eternally grateful that you didn't spill it everywhere.

The tiny plane buzzed around a little - getting out of the landing zone, you realized - and the back hatch opened to reveal a guy in a yellow shirt waving irritably at all of you. You untangled yourself from your seat belt and went to take off the helmet and he waved harder at you and pointed very emphatically out of the plane.

A minute later, you realized why. The flight deck was _loud_ , and the helmet had built-in hearing protection. You followed your fellow passengers across the rough surface - what about your seabag? - and down a flight of stairs and you couldn't help but stop for a minute at the bottom because the Persian Gulf stretched out before you in a long steely expanse of water and you realized you were about sixty feet off of the surface. Yellow shirt poked you in the back and you winced and ducked into the ship.

Yellow shirt pried off his helmet as soon as the door shut behind you, revealing over-sized canines and furrowed brows. Written in sharpie on his shoulder was 'CAPTOR', and it took you a minute to recognize it as his name. "Down the p-way, your bags are right behind us," he said, lisping the s-noises a bit. He squeezed past you and a few others, then stuck his head into an office. "MM! New guys!"

A short-haired woman in blue cami - the Navy Working Uniform, but you thought people only wore coveralls underway, but that didn't explain Captor's shirt - sauntered out of the office. She seemed way too serene to be working on a warship, but you supposed it took all sorts. She had eagles on her collar device, with a single chevron beneath - a petty officer. Third class, but she still out-ranked you by two pay-grades.

"I'm AZ3 Maryam," she said politely, addressing the clump of you jammed into the tiny hallway - passageway - p-way, shit, these nautical terms would be difficult to get straight - then she smiled warmly. "And I'd like to be the first to welcome you all to the Abraham Lincoln. Your sponsors should be up here to collect you soon." She spotted you, clinging to your baggie, and coughed politely. "Airman Captor," she said. "Will you escort that young man to the nearest head?"

Captor rolled his eyes and gestured at you to follow him. The hal- the p-ways were narrow and smelled like a mix of jet fumes and windex. Something thudded and whirred immediately overhead and you ducked away from the ceiling when you realized that a plane had just landed a scant few inches of steel away. Captor shot you an amused look over his shoulder and led you into a bathroom. Head. Bathrooms were heads and there weren't any bathtubs on board. Were there?

"Cod's suck," he said, leaning against the sink while you dumped your mess into a toilet. 

"Yeah, they do," you agreed, shoving the soiled bag deep into the trash bin marked 'PLASTIC'. "What's that stand for, anyway?"

Captor narrowed his eyes at you while you washed your hands, then blinked and you figured he was probably trying to determine if you were making fun of his speech patterns before realizing what you were asking for. "Carrier On-board Delivery," he explained. "Fucking prop-plane piece of shit. What flavor are you?"

You balked. "Um."

"Rate, nub. What's your rate?"

"Oh!" Your job. You cringed. "I'm undesignated," you admitted. You hadn't been able to chose just one when you enlisted, they all looked so cool! Your recruiter had shrugged and told you to enter as undesignated and that you could pick one once you got to your first ship and got a taste of shipboard life. 

You later found out that this disqualified you from certain jobs and that others were hard as hell to 'strike' into, but almost everything you were interested in was still available.

Captor made a face. "Shitty," he said. "C'mon, let's go."

You followed him back to Maryam's office and into a morass of seabags and suitcases and people. More people in uniform - you all had flown in wearing civilian clothes - were shouting, and Captor jerked his thumb at a big, beefy guy. "You're in Deck," he told you. "Have fun."

The guy from Deck gathered you and two other undesignated guys - you'd all had a lot of time to chat between flights - and led you through the most confusing maze you'd even been in. The p-ways were way more narrow when you had fifty pounds of seabag on your back and twenty pounds of dress uniforms in your arms and people gave you amused, patronizing looks as they squeezed out of your way. You guessed that the new guy look - Captor had called you nub, was that like noob? - was easy to pick out. 

The berthing seemed to go on for forever, row after row of shelves that turned out to be bunks stacked three high, with blue curtains and fluorescent lights. The guy in charge assigned each of you one and gave you an armload of clean linen and showed you where the head was and left you alone with orders to be awake and in front of the door at 0700 the next morning so someone could take you to morning quarters. 

Locally, it was 1000 Tuesday morning. In your head it was 2300 on Monday and you'd been awake almost the entire time since you left Washington on Saturday morning. The other two guys decided to go get lost. You made your rack and stripped down to your underwear and crawled in.

You were asleep before you remembered to set an alarm.


	3. Chickenslop is the best meal on board

You were lost.

You'd woken up in the afternoon and shoved all of your clothes and random stuff into the storage space under your rack. Your belly grumbled at you and you decided to go try and find the cafete-the mess decks. Or messing. Whatever they called it, you'd never been able to get a clear answer on that one.

And you'd immediately gotten lost.

The first thing you found was the hangar bay. Logically, you knew that they couldn't keep all of the planes up on the flight deck all of the time, what if they had to do maintenance? But that didn't prepare you for the hangar bay. It was massive, stretching through the center of the ship and well over thirty feet high. Huge doors to either side opened up to the water - no, to elevators large enough to fit two jet planes on. Jeez. The scale of everything here was enormous.

Jets littered the big space, swarming over with people in more of those colored shirts. Most of the ones down here were green, though you spotted a few yellow or blue ones and you tried to see if Captor was among them.

You ran into a guy with a red shirt, first.

You staggered back, tripped over a chain holding a stack of crates to the floor, and landed on your butt. The guy you hit whirled around with a scowl. "Jesus fuck," he spat. "Watch where you're going! When did you get here, yesterday?"

"Today, actually," you retorted without thinking, but this guy had no reason to be such a jerk.

The guy's mouth snapped shut and his face screwed up hilariously. You obviously weren't the only one who thought so, because the red-shirt amazon he was walking with giggled into her hand and hey, that was Captor grinning on her other side. "Good job, KK," he said. "Traumatizing nubs before their second day."

"Fuck off, Sollux," 'KK' muttered, but he reached down to help you up. His shirt had 'VANTAS' sharpied in on the shoulder, and the ridiculously tall girl was 'MEGIDO'. 

You turned his grip on your hand into a hand-shake once you were upright. Vantas rolled his eyes but shook your hand back and you grinned. "Thanks, man," you said. "Sorry about running you over."

"Yeah, well," he grumbled, pulling back to shove both hands into his pockets. "Watch where you're going; concussions fucking suck."

"Yeah, will do," you said. "Hey, where's the mess hall?"

Megido pointed at a metal door along one wall. "The mess _decks_ are down there," she said brightly. "The fish is pretty good."

"C'mon, AA, the fish is never good," Captor groaned. 

"I like the fish!"

"You're a lunatic," Vantas muttered. They wandered off, arguing about the fish, and you made a mental note that you had two to one odds on the fish being horrid. Good to note.

The fish looked pretty horrible. You opted for the soupy chicken pot pie instead.

There weren't too many people at the tables and you debated between joining someone and trying to make friends or coming off as that creepy guy who sits next to you on the bus when there's plenty of open seats. You went for eating alone; you had plenty of time to figure out the social dynamics of this place later.

Each table had four attached chairs and you almost banged your knee sliding into one. You looked around; no one was paying attention to you and your clumsiness. But more tables were filling up with another wave of people, and you dug your spoon into pot pie soup, wondering if someone was going to ask to sit with you.

"Seat open?"

Son of a bitch. You choked on your soup-pie.

You gestured openly - if a bit spastically - and swallowed past the uncomfortable lump of food stuck in your throat. You heard an amused grunt and you blinked your watery eyes to try and see who your new tablemate was.

Oh, not fair.

Logically, you knew that Petty Officers were only a little above you in the pecking order. They were still enlisted, still 'blueshirts', as it were, but you were a little too close to Boot Camp yet, where Petty Officers were unquestionable and Chiefs were untouchable and actual commissioned Officers were distant, godly beings who had motives you'd never fathom.

The guy sitting at the opposite corner of the table was a skinny blond with heavy bags under his eyes and two chevrons on his coveralls collar - a Second Class. Not quite a First Class like your recruit trainers, but higher than the AZ3 who spoke to you earlier and way higher than you. You swallowed nervously and dropped your eyes to your plate.

Someone noisily dropped a tray directly across from you and just as noisily dropped into the seat. "This," he proclaimed, pointing emphatically at his glass. "Is not apple juice. This is penance."

He was blond and skinny and wearing NWU's and there was no way his sideburns were sat. Come to think of it, there was no way the other guy's hair in general was within regs. The Petty Officer snorted, shaking his head at the newcomer, who didn't have a collar device - a junior enlisted like you, then. That made you feel a little better.

"Remember," the junior guy said to you, gesturing with his fork. "Penance. Penance for not polishing my boots right and never getting a haircut when I'm supposed to and oh snap, Strider, did you forget to shave this morning? Well fuck you and your taste and your rugged good looks because you're getting apple flavored piss to drink with all of your meals, hope you like the flavor of candy that's been tracked in on someone's shoe."

"Oh my god," the Petty Officer drawled. "Shut the fuck up and eat your chicken slop. You volunteered for this shit."

"Fuck right I did, I straight-up asked for this, bent right over and said 'thank you, Uncle Sam, may I please have another?' Coincidentally, 'Navy' stands for 'Never Again Volunteer Yourself', so fuck you, too."

You grinned a little at your plate. Of chicken slop. Bland, flavorless chickenslop. You looked around the table furtively, and the salt was on the far side of an anemic bottle of A-1 sauce and a honey bear. "Uh, 'scuse me, Petty Officer," you mumbled. "Could you please pass the salt?"

Both of them stared at you, and you were struck by how similar they looked. Actually, they looked _really_ similar, and oh hey, both of their nametags proudly proclaimed them to be 'STRIDER'. Huh. "Okay, nub," the Petty Officer asked, leaning on his elbow. "On a scale of one to just stepped off the COD, how new are you?"

You grimaced. "Um, nine-point-five?" you hedged. "I got here this morning."

"Gross," Strider-the-junior commented.

"Yeah, so, you don't have to call me 'Petty Officer'. In fact, I'd prefer to never hear those words again, okay?"

"Okay," you said quickly. "So, uh, what's appropriate, then?"

He shrugged and dug into the mealy baked potato on his tray. "Strider. Dirk. ET2 if you absolutely have to use something with a rank."

"Me, however," the other guy said. "You have to refer to me by my full title; Mass Communications Specialist Dave Strider of the United States Navy, winner of the 'best hair on board' award for two years running and all around cool fucking guy. Don't forget that last part, it's important."

You grinned and held out your hand towards him. "John Egbert, undesignated."

Dirk rolled his eyes, muttering something about 'fucking deck', but Dave shook your hand firmly. "Welcome to Cell Block Seventy-Two," he said with utter seriousness.

"Thanks," you said dryly. You offered your hand to Dirk over the honey bear, and he stared blankly for a moment before accepting, a little awkward. You sat back and looked between them. "So, are you guys brothers or something?"

They blinked at you, then at each other. "Dude," Dirk asked. "Did you steal my N-dubs?"

"Fuck you, dude," Dave shot back. "You so stole my coveralls. Who are you? What's going on here?!"

You grin. "So, that's a yes."

"Yeah, totes bros," Dave admitted. "You get points towards your wish-list if you've got family on board wherever you're going." He leaned over and mushed his face against Dirk's shoulder. "Like my wuvly big bwo." Dirk flipped his fork around and dug the handle into Dave's ribs. 

"Yeah, I know," you said, while they got into a duel with their silverware. "My cousin Jane is on board here, I think she's a cook."

"Jane Crocker, CS2?" Dirk asked, shoving Dave away by the face. 

You nodded, and Dave grinned. "Hey, your boat boo!" he said brightly.

Dirk hooked his arm around Dave's neck and dragged him into a choke-hold. "Jane's a good friend of mine," he told you, grunting when Dave jabbed him with his spoon.

"Calm down, you infernal ruffians," someone said, sitting next to you. He was dark-haired and smiling, wearing green cami instead of blue, and he had a big, silvery badge on one pocket.

"Sir, yessir!" Dave snapped, sitting bolt upright in his seat.

Dirk poked his brother in the ribs one last time. "Egbert," he said, gesturing at the newcomer. "MA2 Jake English. Jake, John Egbert, Jane's nub cousin."

Jake turned a friendly, million-watt smile on you. "A pleasure," he said warmly, extending the handshake before you could. "I've heard Jane speak of you."

You felt a little nervous. Another Petty Officer, and the MA's - Master at Arms - were the police on board Navy ships. But this guy was bright and friendly and you returned his handshake willingly. "I hope she says good things," you smiled back. "But yeah, she's why I'm here. That, and my dad lives in Seattle, and I can go home and see him on the weekends."

Dave paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and all three of them stared at you with varying levels of sympathy. "No one told you?" Jake asked, almost gently.

You looked between the three of them, alarmed. "Told me what?"

Dirk sighed. "We're not pulling back into Washington," he said quietly.


	4. The Hook-up

It took them a bit to convince you that they weren't playing a cruel prank on you. Dirk explained that the reactors had to be refueled, that the only place in the country they could do that was Norfolk, Virginia and that the Lincoln was on a 'round-the-world' trip from home port Everett, Washington to Norfolk. Where it would be for five years. Longer than your current enlistment.

You only believed it when Dave leaned over to another table and asked the girl sitting there where the ship was eventually headed. When she confirmed Norfolk, you felt your heart sink. You had been so looking forward to your dad's cooking on the weekends and Sounder's games and good coffee. But you weren't going home. You were going to Norfolk and did they even have decent sushi places on the east coast?

You kind of picked at the rest of your meal, half paying attention to the conversation among the others, and you started a little when Dave nudged your ankle with his boot. "C'mon, nublet," he said, not unkindly. "I'm gonna get you all hooked up tonight. I got boat boo's in every department on this ship, I got babes of every rank chasing my fine Strider swag, I got-"

"Terrible grammar and a penchant for whoring yourself out," Dirk interrupted. Jake choked on his milk.

Dave sniffed haughtily at Dirk. "Pedant."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Yeah, okay," you said, before they started jabbing each other with forks again. You needed something to distract you from the shock of not going back home. Yeah, you knew that there was a chance you'd end up on the other side of the world from your dad, but you never thought it would actually happen.

"Cool," Dave said, standing. 

You all dumped your trays and Jake waved goodbye as he wandered off down another hall. Dirk followed you and Dave briefly, then paused at a big, grey door with a weird center hinge. "Go past any of the doors like this," he said mildly. "And I'll fucking end you." Then he was gone.

You looked at Dave with a raised brow, and he shrugged. "Reactor spaces," he explained. "Nukes only."

"Woah," you breathed. Nukes were the engineers who ran the nuclear reactors that powered the ship, and the requirements were way up there - incidentally making it one of the jobs you couldn't strike for. "So, he's really smart, huh?"

Dave snorted. "And a socially awkward retard who'd rather play fuckin' Magic cards than go out on the weekend. C'mon, we got people to see."

o o o

Stop one was your berthing (which Dave knew how to get to and you didn't) to gather up your orders and, weirdly, the chargers for your electronics and he wouldn't tell you why.

o o o

Stop two was Personnel, and Dave skirted the counter at the front to go lean against the desk of a severe-looking blond lady. "Rooooose," he whined like a little kid. "Pay attention to me."

"Did you sign in?" she asked mildly, not looking up at him.

"Pfft, no."

"Then kindly get lost, Dave." She turned to look at you with a raised brow. "Your friend, however, can stay."

"Cold," Dave pouted. "After all we've been through."

"PS Lalonde," she introduced herself to you, ignoring Dave completely. 

"Nice to meet you," you replied. Personnel Specialist; made sense if she was working down here. You were on a roll with figuring out everyone's ratings; Dirk was an Electronics Technician (a _Nuclear_ ET, and that was really cool, you didn't care what Dave said) You still had to figure out what all of the colored shirts meant, but they were Airman somethings, you were pretty sure.

She neatly snatched your orders from your hand, clicked her tongue a little as she read them, then stamped them and handed them back. "Come back tomorrow afternoon," she told you. "Assuming Strider actually gave you directions down here."

"Hey, working on it," Dave protested.

"Right." Then she smiled, a little shy and it really softened her expression and you realized that she was probably about your age. "It's nice to meet you, too."

o o o

Stop three was a room with a huge lightbulb painted on the door. "Electricians," Dave trumpeted, throwing up his hands as he walked in the door. "Your god has arrived!" He immediately had to dodge a pen, a bolt and a small wrench. "Hey, shit, okay, know what? I hope your Farmville crops all die."

There were several groups of people clumped around TV's and game systems that were tucked in among the workbenches. One of the guys closest to the door - the one who had thrown the wrench - leaned back in his seat. "Hey, Harley, your douchebag boat boo is here."

"You're just jealous I'm not _your_ boo," Dave sniffed, stepping over someone sitting on the ground.

Harley turned out to be another amazon _and_ another Petty Officer - didn't Dave know anyone of his own damn rank, aside from Rose? - who was playing an SNES in the corner with what looked like Rose's twin sister except it actually might have been her twin because her coveralls said 'LALONDE'. "EM3 Jade Harley," Dave introduced her. Electrician's... Mate? Yeah, that was it. "The only person on the ship that's happy to be on deployment."

Jade poked Dave in the ribs. "Oh, c'mon, Dave," she protested. "This is what we signed up for! We're in the _Navy_ , you know."

"Never Again Volunteer Yourself," Lalonde grinned. 

Dave high-fived her. "CTT3 Roxy Lalonde, the only person on board who makes it worthwhile."

CTT. Um. "Okay, yeah," you admitted. "I don't know that one."

"Crypto, baby," Roxy winked. Maybe not Rose's twin, maybe her big sister or something. "Top Secret all up in here."

"Woah." Okay, that was _really_ cool.

Jade took all of your chargers from you and did a 'safety check, gotta make sure you're not going to light your berthing on fire!' and stuck little white stickers on the sides. Roxy proclaimed herself as 'Janey's bee-eff-effsie for life or reenlistment, whichever comes first'. And between the three of them, you learned that the next port visit would be Dubai in a little over a week.

Dave offered to be your liberty buddy. Jade offered the same.

By the time you made it back to your rack, your heart was considerably lightened. Yeah, you wouldn't be going home, but you didn't think you'd be lonely, either.


	5. Yes, we DO have a Starbucks.

"Hey, nub. Wake up. You've got the razz."

"Th'fuck's a razz?" you mumbled. You squinted at your watch in the gloom - too-fucking-early-o'clock. 

"Replenishment at Sea," your tormenter informed you. "You're on the working party, get the fuck up."

You slogged out of your rack and into your coveralls without hurting yourself too badly, and you're pretty sure you followed someone up to the hangar bay. Down? You don't know, too many stairs in this place. Someone shoved you in the direction of a table full of granola bars and a canteen of coffee and you fell to it like a mindless zombie ingesting brains and oh my GOD the coffee was terrible.

Well, you were awake.

You were directed this way and that, and you finally ended up in a clump of people you vaguely recognized from your berthing. You then learned what a razz - or rather, a RAS - was. Another ship pulled up next to the carrier, lines went back and forth, and they sent over fresh food and mail and maintenance parts on zip lines.

You also learned what a working party was.

Someone had to make sure all of those pallets of food and mail and parts got where they belonged.

After a while, you heard a somewhat familiar voice cursing up a storm. The line next to you was almost entirely people in colored shirts, and Vantas was running a loud, profanity-laden commentary on the Navy, the Navy supply system, the state of the equipment in the hangar bay, the heaviness of any given pallet, the incompetence of the guy in the forklift, the weather, the hour, the coffee and the fact that his pants kept riding up.

It was actually kind of poetic. The guy had a way with words.

You both ended up shifted to another team, one in a long line of people passing boxes of food down the passageway. Vantas kept up his flow, much to the general amusement of the people working with you and the occasional displeasure of a passing chief. Said chief became a new topic of scorn once he was out of earshot, and you started prodding Vantas with mild questions, seeing what tangents you could get him on next.

The door you were both in front of opened, and a girl in a white paper hat stuck her head out. "Hey, she said. "Could you maybe tone down on the cluster f-bomb? We can hear it all the wa- John?!"

"Jane!" 

You stepped out of the line to hug your cousin and Vantas cursed you both soundly. "When did you get here?" she demanded. "Oh, never mind, wait here!" She disappeared back into the room - a kitchen of some sort, and it smelled _delicious_ \- and reappeared with a baggie full of fresh cookies. "Come find me later, when you're done," she said. "I work here most days."

Vantas eyed the cookies antagonistically after Jane disappeared again. "CS's get achievement awards for baking cookies," he spat bitterly.

"Then I bet Jane has a lot of achievements," you replied. You pried the bag open. Oatmeal raisin, oh man! "You want one?"

Vantas made that twisted-up face again and accepted one of the still-warm cookies as if it would bite him back.

o o o

Oh my god.

Oh my god, this place had a _Starbucks_.

It was surreal. One of the walls of the mess decks opened into a little room, with a little counter and the most glorious-looking espresso machine you'd ever seen. The menu was limited, but it was a no-shit Starbucks, in the middle of a floating city in the middle of the ocean. 

You had twenty minutes of break before you had to go help sort mail. You were supposed to use it to get food.

You got in the Starbucks line.

Or, 'Jittery Abe's', as the sign on the wall proclaimed.

You ordered an Americano and the guy laughed at you when you pulled a five dollar bill out of your pocket. "Dude, you new?" he asked. "We only accept a cash card here."

Um. "Like a credit card?" you hedged. 

"Nope. Go talk to Dispersing."

But, but, _caffeine_.

"I got his."

Your savior was a girl in a blue shirt, but instead of a name written on her shoulder, she had a rather elaborate drawing of a scorpion. "You're my hero," you said gratefully.

"And you better remember that," she replied. She leaned against the wall while your drinks were made and stared you down. You narrowly resisted the urge to shove your hands in your pockets. "Deck?" she asked finally.

"Uh huh." You gestured vaguely at her shirt. "Um, Air?"

"Air _squadron_ ," she corrected. "We don't belong to the ship."

Oh. That was interesting. "So, you're not coming to Norfolk with us?"

She shook her head. "We leave as soon as we get back to the States and we'll eventually get back to San Diego. So that means you have until the end of the deployment to pay me back for this, Deck boy."

"Hey, I can handle that," you said easily.

The way she smiled made you feel like you were staring down a predator, and you weren't sure why it wasn't making you nervous. The guy behind the counter handed her your drinks and she watched you for another half a second before handing you yours. "You let me know how you want to pay me back," she said and wow, she was really pretty.

"Will do," you said, saluting her with the plastic cup. 

Shit, you were going to be late.

You described her to Vantas while you were tossing boxes of mail back and forth, sorting them by department and division, and he snorted derisively. "Oh my Christ, you met the spiderbitch," he rolled his eyes, nearly beaning another guy in the head with a box marked 'FRAGILE'. " _And_ you're in her debt. Good going, Egbert, it was nice knowing you, you want me to mail a vial of your ashes back to your dad?"

"Oh, come on," you protested. "She can't be that bad. She seemed really nice?"

"Vriska Serket," he said gloomily, like he was pronouncing Doom over the entire ship. "Is not nice."

You made a face at him. "Well, I like her."

He snorted again. "That's the problem," he said. "Most of us do. Your funeral if you get bit."


	6. The daily grind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter fleshing out shipboard life a little.
> 
> We really are professionals, I swear.
> 
> http://www.navy.mil/navydata/ships/carriers/rainbow.asp 

o o o

Jane worked in the bakery and practiced with the rugby team in the hangar bay once a week. You pointed out that the hangar bay was covered in non-skid - something akin to gravelly concrete - to increase grip, and she grinned and showed you the huge scrape running up her leg. She pestered you until you agreed to show up to at least one practice, and it was only after you left that you wondered what the hell an aircraft carrier was doing with a rugby team.

o o o

A cash card - a Navy Cash Card, some kind of goofy digital debit card - turned out to be necessary to buy _anything_ on board. You begged coffee from Dave, Jake, Jane and Jake again for four days until yours came in, and promptly repaid all of them.

You couldn't find Serket to repay her. You did find Captor and he grinned and informed you that Serket would probably rather be repaid in blood. The purple shirt he was sitting with - Peixes - punched him in the arm.

o o o

You and Dave were eating dinner when Dirk sat across from you and started ranting viciously about RCP's and Fill and CMG's and EDG's and fifty other acronyms that he didn't bother explaining until Roxy sat next to him and asked about her emergency power supplies and Dirk offered the opinion that her emergency power supplies could fuck a rolling donut and Jade wondered out loud how one would fuck something rolling away from you and Jake suggested a snare might come in handy and Dave mentioned that he had two seasons of 'Man Versus Wild' but none of the episodes mentioned catching sex pastries and Jane offered him either the entire Looney Toons collection or a batch of chocolate chip cookies in exchange for some Bear Grylls and all of you devolved into a debate on the value of TV shows in junk food and when one of the mess decks workers kicked you all out for taking up two tables for nearly an hour in the middle of dinner, you realized that you genuinely liked these people.

o o o

Your first real watch came as an under-instruction up on the bridge as Lee Helmsman - as the guy who decided how fast the carrier was going, holy shit.

Well, not quite. The Officer of the Deck gave you an order, and you relayed it by a fancy touch-screen to the nukes down in the reactor spaces, who applied steam to the engines to make the ship go. But you were totally an important part of the topside officer/nuke enlisted interaction interface and damn if you weren't going to do it right.

You were handed a set of headphones with a microphone attached to the front, and told that you were talking to 'One and two EOS' - the nuke spaces, one for each of the two reactors and your over-instruct had no idea what the acronym was - and 'port and starboard aft steering' - the engineering spaces where they took care of the big machines that turned the ship's rudders. You were also told to do a phone check with each space.

"One EOS, bridge, phone check?"

"Bridge, one EOS, phone check satisfactory. Hey, is that Egbert?"

You recognized that drawl. "Hey, Dirk, yeah, it's me." Your over-instruct gave you a funny look.

"Sweet. Harley, wake up, we've got company."

"Hm? Oh, hi, John! I mean, Bridge, Port Aft Steering, phone check sat!"

You grinned and the OOD gave you a sour look. "Maintain formality on the phones," he told you, and you hunched down in your seat.

Your over-instruct elbowed you in the ribs. "Tell them that, too."

You bit your lip a little. "Um, one EOS, port aft steering, bridge, maintain formality on the phones."

"Maintain formality, bridge, one EOS, aye. Port aft steering, one EOS, how do you get one hundred babies in the trunk of a car?"

"One EOS, port aft steering, a blender!"

You choked and hid it in a cough. "Maintain formality," you hissed into the mic, because if you started laughing on the bridge you were so fucked.

"Bridge, one EOS, screw you, we're being formal. Formality all up in this bitch. Port aft steering, one EOS, how do you get them out?"

"One EOS, port aft steering, Doritos, and I don't think 'all up in this bitch' is really formal."

You were going to kill them both.

o o o

You saw Dirk that night at dinner, sitting with a girl you didn't know and discussing watch rotations, so probably someone he worked with. You nudged his shoulder in passing and told him you didn't think Harley would appreciate him chatting up any other girls and the girl he was talking to started laughing and ribbing him about ' _you_ have a boat boo?' and Dirk flushed and you absconded to sit with Vantas and a guy in a brown shirt named Nitram before he could retaliate.

Dave told you later that half of the nukes and almost all of engineering now thought that Dirk and Jade were together and he high-fived you for a perfect slam-dunk into the rumor mill and you had absolutely no regrets.

o o o

You finally found Serket in the hangar bay, after Jane's rugby practice.

You were sore and bleeding and probably not looking your best but she didn't seem to care. When you offered her repayment coffee, she waved a dismissive hand. "I can get coffee any time," she said. "How about you owe me a day of inport hang-out time, instead?"

"Sorry," you said, and you really meant it. "Dubai is all booked for me. Bahrain?"

She smirked. "It's a date, deck boy."


	7. Dubai is our other Homeport

Dubai taught you a few things about your friends.

You learned that, in civilian clothes, the Striders looked like douchebag fratboys, the Lalondes looked like fashion models, Jake and Jade looked like Indiana Jones' long-lost grandchildren, and Jane was the only person you knew that dressed like a normal human being.

o o o

Day one in Dubai was the Burj Khalifa.

You, Jade, Rose and Dave went on the tour. Jade was ecstatic, babbling on about the engineering challenges the building overcame and discussing the aesthetics with Rose, but Dave was quiet the entire way to the Dubai Mall (the largest mall in the world and Jesus, you'd never seen so many stores in one place)

He was fidgety as hell on the elevator up (no windows, too bad) but you kind of forgot about him once you stepped out of the elevator and onto the observation deck.

Dubai spread out beneath your feet in a glittering carpet of glass and steel, edged by sand and the ocean. There were plexiglass plates to keep people from falling, but slits in the plex let the wind whistle through and you stuck your face in one and just _felt_. It was incredible and heady and probably the closest you could get to flying aside from skydiving and if you closed your eyes, you could feel the entire building gently sway.

You finally backed out of the breeze and looked around for your friends. Jade and Rose were leaning over one of the digital telescopes, but Dave was no where in sight. You frowned absently and went inside to look for him.

You found Dave in the gift shop and the huge sunglasses he was wearing couldn't hide the fact that he was _pale_ , absolutely pasty even for someone who got to see the sun once every month or so. "Jesus," you said, stepping up to him. "Are you okay?"

Dave shrugged and didn't - wouldn't - look at you. "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout?" he said. "Everything over here is all systems go, one-hundred and ten percent, tip-top fucking, fucking in shape, let me tell you."

He shook, and his usual verbosity was mush. You squinted at him. "You're afraid of heights," you accused him softly.

Dave glared at you over his shades. "Fuck you," he said, equally soft.

"Dave, you asshole," you hissed. "Stay here." Not like it looked like he was going much of anywhere, anyway, and you hustled outside to Rose and Jade. "Dave's-" No, nuh uh, stop right there; one did not dime out his friend's fears like that, even to other friends. "Dave's not feeling good," you amended. Rose raised an eyebrow at you. "I'm gonna take him down to the food court and get him some tea or something," you continued.

Jade looked concerned. Rose gave you the distinct feeling that she knew exactly what's wrong with Dave and that she didn't buy your bullshit. "Do you want us to-" Jade started.

You waved your hand and cut her off. "No way, enjoy the rest of the tour. I'll handle Dave." You hurried away before they could offer to come along.

Dave had moved exactly two steps, gone from looking at coffee mugs to playing cards. You nudged him in the shoulder and he followed you to the elevator with barely visible relief. You're pretty sure if it wasn't for the fact that he could get in huge trouble for abandoning his liberty buddies, he would have been down already and you thanked something that the line for the elevator was only two people long.

Dave didn't stop being tense after you stepped out of the elevator, and it took you a minute to realize that he went from phobic to embarrassed. There was a cafe almost as soon as you cleared the elevator and he slouched in a seat and pulled out his phone and didn't look at you. You rolled your eyes and went over to the cafe to buy coffee with way too much sugar syrup for him and a shot of espresso for yourself.

He accepted the coffee with a mumbled thanks, and you sat across from him. And stared. Until his head tilted from his phone and you could barely see the shape of his eyes behind his sunglasses. "What?"

You grinned crookedly. "I'm claustrophobic," you admitted.

His face went particularly blank for a good thirty seconds, then he snorted. "Good thing you didn't volunteer for submarine duty," he muttered and just like that, things were easy again.

Jade and Dave later insisted you all go through the aquarium. You and Rose insisted you all go make rainbow teddy bears at Build-a-Bear. You end up doing both and leaving the mall with garish stuffed toys and huge bags of candy from the Hershey store.

o o o

Sleeping with all of the drunken assholes in your berthing was impossible. You managed anyway.

o o o

Day two was you, Jake, Jane and Jade on the Sunset Safari.

Your guide didn't speak a word of English and he drove like a lunatic, swerving around the other drivers in the SUV caravan as you traveled down the highway to the actual safari. Jake whooped and Jane shrieked and Jade knew just enough of the local language(Arabic? You had no idea) to encourage him on faster.

The safari itself was a roller-coaster SUV ride over miles of sand dunes and all of you hooted and hollered and shrieked like idiots through the whole thing. There was a stop in the middle to watch the sun go down - the sunset part - and you ended up wrestling Jake down a sand dune.

The girls laughed at you when you both complained about sand in uncomfortable places. You laughed right back when it turned out that the whole thing was taped from the dash board and when your guide showed you a still picture from it, both girls were making the _best_ faces.

The tour ended at this crazy desert oasis fort thing, with barbeque and belly dancers. Jade, it turned out, could belly dance and she had a dance-off with a woman wearing little more than gauze and sequins. Then they grabbed Jake and pulled him up on the stage with them and okay, that was just hilarious.

You all got cheesy henna tattoos, and Jane dragged you over to look at the sand art bottles in the little store. Most of them were kind of kitschy, but you found a really neat blue swirly thing you rather liked and Jane picked out one that looked like growing vines.

Jake and Jane both fell asleep on you on the way back to the ship. You found that you didn't mind.

o o o

Jesus fuck, there's no way there could be any booze left in the entire United Arab Emirates, because everyone in your berthing drank it all and they _wouldn't shut up._

o o o

Day three was duty. You had another under-instruction watch in the morning, standing at the quarterdeck - the brow on and off the ship - checking ID cards as people entered and left. You were in your dress whites and paranoid as all hell of scuffing your shoes and you watched with envy as people filed off. 

The Striders left around noon. Dirk held up his card for you with a perfectly straight face, and Dave made faces at you over his shoulder. You tried to stay passive.

You failed. The Officer of the Deck made grumpy noises at you. The rest of the watch was boring.

The afternoon was chipping paint from the side of the ship, and the evening was another watch. This one was _way_ more entertaining, because everyone was coming back instead of leaving, and enough of them were smashammered that it was like a constant stream of entertainment. Vantas stormed through the line at one point, practically dragging a tall, gangly guy with stoner eyes and a dopey smile who kept telling Vantas he needed to 'motherfuckin' chillax, brother'. Vantas looked two steps shy of blowing a fuse.

You once again failed to remain passive. Vantas jabbed a knuckle into your rib cage in passing.

The Lalondes came up just before midnight. Roxy was nearly falling over, and Rose gave you a long-suffering sigh as she fished her sister's ID out of her purse. You're pretty sure Roxy was hitting on you, but her words were more or less gibberish and Rose dragged her off.

Your watch ended early, when a guy face-planted into the non-skid while stepping off the brow, and you got to escort him to medical. He was an officer, and you were torn between being respectful and laughing at him.

Laughing won. He didn't mind.

o o o

You were going to invest in ear muffs.

o o o

Day four, you slept in. You met up with Dave sometime in the early afternoon and decided it was your turn to be drunken assholes, because the drinking age was eighteen in the Sandbox, the little circle of shops and internet cafes right off the ship.

The first few hours were boozeless, because the Sandbox had Wi-Fi and you both had webcomics to catch up on.

Eventually, you went from webcomics to cheap, shitty beer and Burger King. Jake and Dirk joined you around sunset, and the four of you proceeded to destroy your livers playing beer pong and destroy your reputations by jokingly hitting on the Lalondes and Jane and Jade with the absolute worst pick-up lines you could come up with. If you got them to throw empties at you, it was bonus points.

Well, you and Dave and Jake were jokingly hitting on the girls. Dirk eventually shifted to maybe-not-jokingly hitting on Jake, who looked flustered and flattered but not alarmed, and you made a note to ask Rose if anything was going on there.

Then Roxy beat you at a round of pong and you forgot all about it.

o o o

You woke up in the lounge of your berthing with Dave drooling on your shoulder. Some kind soul had draped a wool Navy-issue blanket around the two of you, and some raging asshole had duct-taped a sign to your forehead that said 'Nubbie's First Port Visit'. The same person probably did both. 

o o o

Standing Lee Helmsman with a hangover as the ship pulled out of port was enough to convince you that you were never drinking again.


	8. The things we do to stave off boredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't abandoned, I swear! It's just hard to write about being deployed when you're safe at home.
> 
> So, another slice of life chapter to punch my flagging muses in the head.
> 
> And the extension+casualty story is completely legit. I almost peed myself when it happened.

You finally broke down and asked Vantas if 'nub' stood for anything. He told you that it was a generic new guy term, though some claimed it stood for 'Non-Useful Body'.

When you wrinkled your nose at that, Megido leaned over with a sweet smile and suggested that you could be asked to be called 'Currently Unqualified and Not Trained' instead. It took you a minute and Captor cackled at you when you worked it out.

o o o

You and Dave spent an afternoon walking up and down a p-way, getting as close to people as you could without them noticing and walking in perfect lock-step. You kept passing by one office in particular; by your fourth pass, the girl at the desk inside was holding up score cards.

o o o

There were rumors about an extension of the deployment.

There were a _lot_ of rumors about the extension of the deployment.

The fleet admiral came across the 1MC, the ship-wide announcing circuit. The deployment was extended, out to August.

Forty-five minutes later, the Engineering Officer of the Watch came across the 1MC, announcing a propulsion plant casualty.

Dirk assured you all the next day that it wasn't some malicious nuke bitter about the extension, that it was a no-shit casualty and that the plants just wanted to go home as much as the crew. Jade fished a little green army man out of her coveralls and told Dirk, very solemnly, to place it somewhere in the plant 'to appease the gods of the machines'. Dirk very solemnly accepted and you wondered if you just witnessed some weird engineer cult thing.

o o o

Some of your friends spent Saturday nights in helmets and gloves, beating the ever-loving hell out of each other in one of the gyms.

Dirk whooped your ass. Jake whooped your ass. _Roxy_ whooped your ass. You were holding your own against a blue-shirt named Zahhak, but he got in a good swing and knocked you out cold.

You woke up with a headache, an ice pack, and a very apologetic airdale.

o o o

Vantas' first name was Karkat - explained the 'KK' nickname - and he spent Sunday afternoons watching terrible movies in the Ordinance shop. You took him up on his invite to join in, and even if he spent the entire time bitching about 'idiot white kid romance problems', you're pretty certain you saw him swipe away a tear by the end of the movie.

The next day, Serket accused you of liking red shirts over blue. Your spluttered attempts at assuring her that you liked blue just as much made her smirk and her friend, Pyrope, cackle madly. You may have thrown a Star Trek reference in there somewhere.

o o o

You hated the underway replenishments and you _hated_ working party; you were stronger than most, so they put you hauling the bigger boxes around and your shoulders were _killing_ you and-

And the box you were carrying was full of Starbuck's iced mochas in glass bottles.

And it was going to the ship's store. 

Never mind, unrep's were _awesome_.

o o o

Jake fell asleep at the ship's barber and woke up with his head buzzed. You laughed yourself sick.


	9. Military romances are generally terrible ideas

Karkat had awesome movie taste.

It had taken a lot of convincing and begging to get overnight liberty in Bahrain, mostly because you were so new, but you managed it. Karkat had dragged you off the ship almost as soon as the brow was down and after a stop at the base exchange to stock up on junk food, the two of you found your hotel and settled in for Movie Night.

Karkat loved romantic movies and you loved action movies and you both loved comedies so picking what to watch was pretty easy. Sometime during movie two you both ordered a massive pile of food from room service, and you were feeling lazy and content by the end of the third.

"Look," you said, waving a vague hand in the air. "All I'm saying is that she could have just _told_ him she was in love with him from the start! I mean, she's Julia friggin' Roberts; we could have had the wedding in the first ten minutes and the rest of the movie could've been reception shenanigans."

Karkat rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh. "For fucks sake," he lamented. "Don't you know anything about _romance?_ You can't just walk up to someone and tell them you're in love, you classless douche. You have to be subtle. You have to woo them."

You sat up, a little affronted. "I do too know romance!" you protested. "I'm all kinds of romantic."

"Pfft, please. You wouldn't know romantic intentions if they punched you in the face."

But was... Was Karkat blushing? No way, the tv must be playing tricks with your head and you frowned. "Uh, yeah, I would," you argued.

All of a sudden Karkat was... close. And yeah, he was blushing, not quite in your face but way closer than he usually got to people. "You sure about that?" he asked, not softly but still quiet.

Oh. Shit. You knew what this was. Shit. "Um."

Karkat looked at you for a tense moment, then groaned and twisted away from you to clap his hands over his eyes. "Oh fuck me," he moaned. "You're straight, aren't you?"

Shit shit shit. "Um, yes?" you said, a little meekly. "Look, I'm sorry, Karkat, but-"

Karkat didn't wave you quiet, he used a violent slashing motion, as if cutting off your words in mid air. "No, shut up, don't apologize to me," he said. "I should be saying sorry, fuck me for believing Leijons 'gaydar' was right, oh my Christ. I made it awkward. I am the awkward king, it is me, fucking King Clumsy of Romantic Failure Mountain-"

"Karkat, just-"

"Maybe I'll throw myself off the balcony as a sacrifice to Aphrodite for guiding me to hit on a straight guy, just my broken body on her altar as a giant 'fuck you-"

"Karkat, shut up!"

Wonder of wonders, he shut up. And then he curled into himself, into a miserable little huddle of embarrassment and regret that refused to look at you, not that you could really blame him, jeez. You hoped he was disappointed more than heartbroken. "It's cool," you said, as placating as you could be. "It's- I'm not mad at you or anything, I'm just- uh, straight. It's cool."

Karkat glared at you out of the corner of his eye and crossed his arms with a huff. "I don't need your pity," he sulked. "You don't have to pretend that my massive fuck up is okay."

You rolled your eyes. "What a drama queen," you groaned. "I told you; it's cool. We're cool. I'm not mad at you and I'm not pretending, I swear. Actually I feel kind of bad, I mean, I wish I had figured it out so I could let you down easy, sorry about that."

Karkat sat bolt upright, petulant to outraged in two seconds flat. "I wasn't _pining_ for you, fuckstick," he almost yelled. "God, what the hell was I thinking, dating you would be an exercise in pure crotchblistering frustration, with a side of rage seizures and a healthy garnish of 'is his ass really worth this fucking travesty?"

"Woah, hey." You waved your hands. "Let's not bring anatomy into this, okay? And I am not that frustrating!"

"Oh my god, you are that fucking dense." Karkat dug the balls of his hands into his eyes again with a long-suffering huff. "You probably think Megido and Captor are just friends and that Serket talks to you because you're nice."

"I knew about Megido and - wait, are you saying Vriska likes me?!"

Karkat grabbed a pillow off of the bed and screamed into it. You heard your name at least twice.

O o o

You met up with a bunch of the airdales for lunch the next day, and you spent a lot of it focused on Vriska. Was Karkat serious? Did she actually like you? She was really intense, and she spoke to you a lot, prodding you for your opinion on whatever the discussion was, but did that mean anything? Shit, they didn't cover this in Boot Camp.

You got up at one point to refill your drink and Karkat followed you over to the soda fountain. "She's flirting with you," he hissed loudly. "I figured you needed a neon sign pointing out this incredible fact."

"No way," you protested, glancing over at the table full of sailors. "We're just talking."

Karkat rolled his eyes so hard your own eyes ached in sympathy. "She's not brow-beating you into agreeing with her every whim," he pointed out. "That's Serket for 'I like you enough to not force my typical psychosis down your fucking throat, please make out with me'. I swear to Christ, Egbert, I'm not joking."

You looked back at the table and Vriska waved pointedly at you. You waved back a little, then a thought occurred to you. "Wait," you said, suspicious. "I thought you, uh, were into me. Why try and hook me up with Vriska?"

"Jesus fuck, you are actually five years old. What the hell was I thinking?" Karkat threw his hands up with a melodramatic sigh. "Because, you abysmally oblivious idiot, you've made your opinion clear, and if I'm not getting laid, at least _someone_ should be getting some."

"That's nice of you." You bit your lip in thought, then perked up. "Does this make you my sassy gay wingman?"

"First off," Karkat snarled, his hand tightening on his cup until the plastic creaked. "I'm bi, you douchenozzle. Second, if you ever call me sassy again, I'm going to turn your trachea inside out."

"What are you two _doing_?" Vriska demanded, storming up and interrupting whatever doubtlessly-suicidal rebuttal you had for Karkat. "John, your food is getting cold."

You glanced at Karkat, who made a not-very-subtle 'go on' motion at you. You screwed up your courage and turned back to Vriska and said the first thing that came to mind. "So, hey, Vriska, what are you doing in Dubai next time? Because it can be me, if you're, you know, interested.

You were an absolute moron with the absolute worst pick-up lines. Karkat socked you in the arm hard enough to bruise and stormed off back to the table. Vriska stared at you in complete shock for a good twenty seconds and you shrugged and shoved your hands in your pockets and rocked on your heels a little.

Then Vriska started laughing, bright and clear. She punched you in the other arm, not nearly as hard, then linked her arm through yours and dragged you outside. 

By the end of the night, you had a date - an honest-to-god date - set for the next port visit. You made a point to show up to the next movie night with a huge armload of candy bars for Karkat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took for ever because of personal reasons and the fact that I've never been good at writing any of the trolls.


	10. Underway dating is a pain

You learned two new terms that first week back underway.

The first was 'boat boo', which you pretty much knew because Dave and Roxy overused it to the point that it was almost a joke. It was, more or less, a shipboard boyfriend or girlfriend, usually used in a kind of derogatory way, because people suck.

The other was 'cupcaking'.

Displays of affection, public, private, or otherwise, were Not Allowed. You'd actually learned that one in Boot Camp, that to date someone on your ship was No Bueno and to actually hold hands or hug was Not Good and something like kissing or sneaking off to cuddle somewhere was grounds for Captain's Mast - the COs version of court. They wouldn't, or maybe couldn't, stop people from being a couple, but they sure could make dating suck.

So people 'cupcaked' instead. It mostly involved meeting up for meals and making moony eyes at each other across the table and formulating plans for the next in-port. Hanging out with romancey undertones. Captor and Megido were pros, but they were also in the same department. You and Vriska were not.

You tried anyway. Vriska was really cool! Scary intense and really pretty, but still cool and you mostly acted like you were just friends, hanging out. And sometimes she would lean in a little and grin and say something totally inappropriate and you sucked at responding as smoothly as she did but you tried and it usually made her laugh. Really made you wish the ship had more privacy than the stalls in the heads, though.

Sometime after Bahrain, Dave adopted a really shitty attitude about pretty much everything. But mostly about Vriska. Rose told you that it was cabin fever, that it was 'that time of the deployment' and yeah, people were cranky but Dave was being a brat.

You managed to catch him in a good-ish mood one day at lunch and you were discussing Minecraft monster farming when he looked up over your shoulder and scowled. You started to turn and Vriska nudged you in the shoulder. "Hey, Deck boy," she grinned. Past her was Pyrope and a purple shirt who most of the time refused to talk to you. "Come sit with us."

You looked back around. The tables only sat four, and you were already eating with Dave, but Vriska was your girlfriend and you made a 'help me' face at Dave, who then stood up. "Don't worry about it," he said, way too terse. "I'm done."

Totally a lie, because most of his food was untouched, but he was already walking away with his tray. Really? The Airdales slid into the unoccupied seats and the purple shirt grinned nastily. "Better watch out, Serket," he said. "You might have competition for your boy toy."

"Shut up, Ampora," Vriska replied.

Pyrope pursed her lips and looked at you. "Trouble in paradise?" she asked, kicking at your ankle.

"Cabin fever," you said, and they all nodded solemnly. Ampora and Vriska started baiting each other and Pyrope watched with a lazy grin and you frowned at your food. You were ninety-eight percent certain that Dave wasn't into you (thanks for the uncertainty, Karkat!) and you were about as certain that Dave was way too chill to get jealous over broship, but. You _had_ spent a lot of time with Vriska lately, and not a lot of time with your ships company friends and, wow, okay, even if Dave isn't jealous, you'd still kind of been a jerk. Way to go, Egbert.

O o o

You gave Dave a day or so to cool off, then you sent him an email invite to the next movie night in the Ordinance office. Never mind that it wasn't even your office, you were sure Karkat wouldn't mind. He waited another day to accept and you met him on the mess decks on Saturday after dinner with an apology offering of Jittery Abe's. He snorted and made some joke about knowing what he likes and you both headed for the domain of the redshirts.

Karkat already had Battlefield Earth playing and Dave hesitated at the door. "Dude," he murmured to you. "He has worse movie taste than you."

"Fuck you," you and Karkat both echoed, making a few of the people sitting around giggle. Vriska and Pyrope were right in the prime viewing area with an obviously saved spot between them. Vriska waved at you. You waved back annnnnd nope. Not enough room for two and you invited Dave on purpose so you aimed for the back of the room instead.

Dave slid down the wall next to you and took up as much floor space with his legs as humanly possible. "Gotta claim my territory," he explained. "The savage Airdale respects a show of force."

"I hope you respect my foot when I shove it so far down your throat that you'll look like you have a tail," Karkat said over his shoulder.

Dave pursed his lips and batted his eyes. "Hon, you'll be lucky if I respect you the morning after."

Another round of laughter and you relaxed. Dave had never really hung out with you and your Airdale friends, so it was good to see him settling in all right. Speaking of, Vriska chose that moment to pull Pyrope to her feet and back over to you two. "John," she said, her hands on her hips. "We saved you a seat!"

You patted the ground beside you. "And we saved you one," you countered brightly. "More room back here."

Vriska rolled her eyes but she sat next to you anyway, right on that border between 'hanging out' and 'you two need to separate or explain to Chief why you were cuddling'. Pyrope sat on Dave's other side, then she leaned in _way_ close.

Dave looked at her warily. "Is this a revenge killing or do I get to beg for mercy?" he asked.

"Your eyes are red," Pyrope stated, sounding just a teeny bit amazed.

"'Scuse the fuck outta you," Dave sniffed. "They're blood orange."

Pyrope cackled.

O o o

"Dude, you and I have to be liberty buddies in Dubai, private party, no one allowed to intrude of our menage-a-deux ."

"Uh, say again?" you asked, a little crossly, as Dave thunked his elbows down on top of the capstan you were cleaning. You hadn't seen him since movie night, three nights ago, and this is how he greets you? "I've got plans for Dubai, dude."

"Yeah, shacking up with the Wicked Witch of the Flight Deck, I know," he said, waving his hand a little. "But you can't be her liberty buddy, no cross-pollination allowed. But if you're my liberty buddy and TZ takes on your illustrious boo, then you and TZ can swap room keys when we get to the hotel and boom, everyone has a place to get lucky and no one has to buy an extra room to cover their tracks. It's genius. "

How the hell could he say all of that in one breath? Wait. "'TZ'?" you prodded. "You mean you and Pyrope-?!"

"Are gonna do the do," Dave replied solemnly.

You splutter a little. "Dude, you guys just met!"

Dave looked affronted. "Don't you dare judge our whirlwind romance, Casanova. Nitram told me how you asked Serket out."

You threw your scrub brush at him. Your Chief eventually kicked him out of the sponson after he put a boot print on the wall, but not before he wrangled a headlock-induced 'yes' out of you.


	11. This is why underway dating is a terrible idea

Dubai was just as overwhelming the second time around. Your chief told you that after trip seven or ten, it starts to lose its allure but you couldn't see how; there was just so much to look at! 

Although, this time, you could admit to being a little distracted.

You and Vriska and Dave and Terezi all piled into a single taxi and headed downtown in a lump. You spent the entire ride smushed between Dave and Vriska and someone's hand was in your back pocket the entire way, no idea who's. You think they were switching off to mess with you. Terezi kept twisting around to kneel in her seat to talk over the back at the rest of you, until the driver begged her to sit down.

At the hotel, you and Dave checked in, then the girls. In the elevator, you and Terezi solemnly swapped room keys, and shared a long, overly complicated handshake-high five-secret gesture combo that probably would have gone on until one of you gave up but you reached your floor first.

"Our reservations are in ninety minutes," Dave said, deliberately shouldering both his and Terezi's bags. "Y'all got about twenty before we need to be back in a taxi."

"Noted." You made one last secret spy gesture at Terezi and went with Vriska down to your room. It struck you, as you were walking in, exactly what you were doing. This was nuts. You didn't just hook up with girls like this, you didn't- 

Vriska yanked your head down into a very firm kiss. Holy shit. Welp. May as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Ten minutes of making out later, you both reluctantly disengaged to get ready for dinner. This was going to be the longest night of your life.

O o o

You were right. Dinner was a fancy eternity and you tasted almost none of it and Vriska kept sliding her foot up your leg.

O o o

Worth it. Worth all of it.

O o o

You woke up and stretched until your back cracked and oh yeah, Vriska Serket was in your bed, fucking-A. You were sticky and sore and your back felt scratched up and last night might have been worth the entirety of your enlistment. 

The bathroom mirror revealed that you had a nice set of lines on each shoulder and you hummed to yourself while you showered. You stepped into the main room with a towel over your head, wondering vaguely about the time, and grinned at Vriska when she sat up in bed. "Good morning!"

"We should break up."

You paused in the act of drying your hair. Not exactly what you expected to hear first thing. Vriska didn't look that happy, frowning at her hands. "Um. Was the sex that bad?"

"What?" Vriska's head snapped up, then her cheeks colored brilliantly. You didn't even know she could blush. "No way, that was... That was _good_ , really good, but." She sighed and straightened her shoulders. "I'm leaving the ship in Jacksonville," she said firmly, not quite looking at you. "The airwing is going back to San Diego, so we've got about six weeks before we've got a country between us." 

Well, shit. You dropped the towel and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't think we could do the long distance thing?" you asked.

Her mouth screwed up a bit and she huffed, crossing her arms and no, John, don't get distracted by boobs right now, you horse's ass, this is important. "It's not at all practical," she said.

"Since when are you practical?"

She shoved at your shoulder. You shoved back and carried through with the motion, pushing you both down into the mattress. "If you think it is for the best," you said, leaning up on one elbow. "But I'm still going to be your long distance friend and you have to promise that if we ever get stationed together, we'll try again, okay?"

"Deal," she said. Then her arms came up and wound around your neck. "But starting tomorrow."

Fucking-A.

O o o

You were late meeting up with Terezi and Dave. They were even later and Dave had an absolutely huge hickey on his neck.

O o o

"So did you figure out how to make babies, or did you guys need an internet tutorial?"

"Har har." You raked your fingers through your hair while Dave slid down the wall to sit next to you on the fantail. You were back underway and the water churned up by the propellers streamed away in a frothy trail from the back of the ship. It was pretty peaceful, if a bit loud. "It was awesome. Nice love bite, by the way."

Dave grimaced. "Bro won't stop laughing at me," he grumbled. "One of the girls in my office gave me some concealer for it. Gotta hide my impurity from the judgmental eyes of the khaki, lest I be dubbed a whore and cast overboard. Seriously, how do girls wear this stuff? It feels gross."

"Dunno." You sighed and tipped your head back. "I'm single now."

"That bad for her, huh?"

You elbowed Dave in the ribs. "Nope, the airwing is going back to San Diego and Vriska didn't want to do the long distance thing. It's cool. We're going to stay friends."

"Cool. Dating is for chumps anyway. Bachelor life is amazing."

You raised a brow at him. "You're not dating Terezi?" you prodded.

"Nah." He waved his hand dismissively. "She's got this polyamorous thing going on with her and Karkat and that weird fucking purple shirt stoner dude and she's cool as hell and she fucks like a tiger but I'm a one-lady kinda guy and I'd like said lady to be a one-guy kinda lady, you know?"

"Jesus." You shook your head. "Navy romance is like the worst rom-com come to life, dude. I don't think even Cameron Diaz can save this one."

"Fuck it, let's switch genres then," Dave said, stretching his arms overhead. "There's this badass tour in Turkey we should go on, ancient tombs and a rug factory and some weird natural formations and shit, we can turn this from rom-com fail to that one bromance where they cause an international incident and piss on what turns out to be art older than civilization."

You laughed and elbowed him. "Deal. You're the one who gets engaged to a brothel Madame because of wacky translation errors."


	12. Thunderbolt and lightning /Very very frightening me!

You didn’t get to see any of the Suez Canal during the passing, but being on the bridge when you pulled into Antalya, Turkey kind of made up for it. This place was _gorgeous_.

O o o

The tour Dave drug you on turned out to be really, really cool. Captor and Megido came, too, and you found out that Dave is a huge history nerd. He and Megido spent the entirety of the tour around the necropolis fangirling over ancient ruins and climbing stones older than some countries, while you and Captor stuck to the scant shade and debated Visual Basic versus Python.

He won.

There was a leather coat factory and a stay at a small resort and an onyx factory and this massive mountain of calcium and hot springs and a stop at a factory for genuine Turkish rugs. Captor paid more than you earn in a year for a massive silk rug, Megido spent all afternoon cradling a wooden globe with onyx countries, and you nearly knocked Dave down the mountain when he tackle-dunked you into one of the hot springs.

O o o

Sometime after Turkey was the Shellback Ceremony.

Wog Day was one of those grand naval traditions. You weren’t a ‘real’ sailor until you crossed the equator and were ritualistically cleansed by your shipmates in a day-long ceremony. You’d barely shown up to the ship in time to cross the equator, so you got to participate. None of the Shellbacks would tell you slimy pollywogs what was going to happen to you, but there was a lot of giggling among the senior guys and a lot of coffee grounds went missing from the mess decks.

“Dude, seriously,” Dave said, while you were taking sharpies to t-shirts on the mess decks. Your Wog Day shirt was going to look like a tuxedo, while Dave was painstakingly cutting his and tying knots to make it look like chain mail. “I was here for this last year, showed up too late to play but I got to watch this idiot circus from a distance and holy fuck, it’s like the county fair meets senior prank day meets a Revenge of the Nerds movie, all overlaid with the dulcet tones of off-key Freddy Mercury echoing through the p-ways.”

You snorted and carefully scribbled something resembling a bow-tie under the shirt collar. “Spare us the horrors of off-key Queen,” you said dryly. “Wayne Campbell is disappointed in your lack of rock-out, Dave.”

“No, fuck that,” Dave said. “I’m a goddamn rockstar, Egbert, but no one deserves to sit through hours of ‘We Will Rock You’ ringing in the distance like a fucked-up war chant. It’s inhumane."

"Your face is inhumane, Dave," Jade said distractedly. She was emptying several red ink pens into a cut-up pop bottle. "Maybe there won't be any Queen this time!"

"You can't escape it," Dave proclaimed. "All songs become Queen eventually."

Rose looked up from adding enough blue ink to the red to make it blood colored. Her shoe-polish-tentacle-covered shirt was already drying on the next table over. "Was that a Good Omen's reference?"

"You're not the only person on board who reads books, Lalonde, Jesus H."

"Just thought I'd ask. Why so defensive?" With that, she flicked her wrist and streaked a beautifully gruesome blood splatter up the side of Jade's shirt.

o o o

Wog Day dawned an hour before dawn, when a bunch of guys in your berthing started up a stirring rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon in Hand Tool.

You jolted and nearly fell out of bed when someone slammed on the side of your rack with a massive wrench. Someone was yelling and you stumbled to your feet and tried to get dressed with a full-blown tool belt cantina band next to you. Your most paint-covered coveralls went on - inside out - and your shirt went on over them, immediately uncomfortable. Your grody Boot Camp running shoes completed the outfit and you carefully stowed your glasses in your rack where they'd be safe.

The senior Deck guys, all dressed like pirates of some sort, herded the sleepy, confused, deafened mass of nubs out into the p-way and down to the mess decks. Which were splattered with mustard and coffee and pillow feathers and liberally soaked with seawater. "On your belly's, 'wogs!" someone bellowed. "And sing for the Shellbacks!"

You braced for Queen, but someone started up the Spongebob theme instead. Thank god.

While you were inching like worms through the muck on the floor, someone grabbed your ankle. You twisted around and Rose scooched up beside you, wearing what looked like black lipstick turned to war paint. At least you hoped it was lipstick, you hoped Rose wasn't wearing shoe polish on her face. "Having fun yet?" 

"Oodles!" you answered. Actually, it was kinda fun. Messy and you had mustard in your hair, but this was way sillier than anything you normally got to do. "You should ditch those Personnel nerds and come hang out with us Deck hotties."

Rose pursed her lips and looked towards some of the yelling pirate Shellbacks around the room. "You're right," she said. "No one will notice if I slip off to find better, more 'hottie' company."

"You just want me for my body," you grinned. Rose laughed and when the line of Personnel 'wogs veered away from Deck, she followed you. You all squelched out of the mess decks and into the p-way, where you had to make a chain by bending over and reaching between your legs and holding the hand of the person behind you. Rose stepped in front of you and winked as she bent over to grab your hand and you stared everywhere but her slightly out-of-focus butt as you walked.

"Make way for Davy Jones!" You looked up and Dave was marching down the p-way with a broom, thumping the handle on the floor and playing herald for the clump of Shellbacks behind him. "Make way! People way more important than you, coming through!" 

You and Rose and the rest of Deck smooshed into the wall. The chief playing as Davy Jones paused and squinted at your leaders. "I demand more heralds for my retinue."

"These two!" Hands grabbed you and you stood up to face Dirk, who was wearing the most elaborate coveralls-turned-pirate get-up you'd seen all day. He even had tiny skull-and-crossbones embroidered in place of his collar devices. Rose was in his other hand, and he shoved you both towards Dave. 

"Your staffs, heralds!" Jake was in Davy Jones' entourage, too. Wearing coveralls cut into booty shorts and a halter top. And handing you both broom handles. You swallowed your laughter with effort.

Davy Jones, it turned out, was wandering around the ship, collecting and depositing bits of his entourage and making sure the ceremony went 'as King Neptune expects'. Which probably meant safety and hazing watch. For you and Rose and Dave, it meant yelling and thumping your brooms and Davy Jones wouldn't tell you when he wanted to turn so you kept having to double back and squeeze past the Shellbacks to get back in front of him.

By the time you made it up to the hangar bay, you were all kind of winded. Dirk and Jake had peeled off at some point, and one of the other Shellbacks grabbed two guys from Engineering and made you three turn over to them. You had no idea where your division was anymore, so you lumped in with Engineering.

"You guys!" 

Which meant in with Jade.

Jade grabbed Dave and ruffled his oatmeal-filled hair. "You guys hear any Queen yet?"

"Nope," you answered. "And we've been everywhere."

"Maybe the curse is broken," Dave said, muffled under Jade's arm. 

"Yeah, right." Jade let him go and you continued down the hangar bay.

Combat systems, so, all of the cryptos, were next to Engineering, and Roxy deviated from harassing her 'wogs to squish Rose up in a big mustardy hug. Then you split back off, to file around a long double line of tables, where the cooks were serving up cups full of food-dyed green ham and potato hash for breakfast. You all got up to the tables right in front of Jane, who held up a cup of breakfast hash teasingly. "Sing for your breakfast, 'wogs," she ordered, looking Rose dead in the eye in challenge.

Rose stared right back and lifted her chin. "You asked for this," she threatened. Jane's smile slipped a little.

"Jane, no!" Roxy and Dave, weirdly synchronized.

Rose cupped her hands around her mouth and faced the rest of the hangar bay. "I see a little silhouette of a man!"

" _Scaramouch! Scaramouch! Will you do the fandango?_ " thundered back every 'wog in the place. 

Jane looked shell-shocked, and she handed Rose two cups of breakfast in defeat. Dave looked like he wanted to sit down and cry. Rose looked so damn proud of herself. The Bohemian Rhapsody echoed back and forth through the hangar bay, divisions trading off parts of the song in a lunatic chorus, and you and Jade cheerfully sang along. 

Right about the time the guitar solo hit, you were herded under a spraying firehose and onto one of the aircraft elevators. The sun was blindly bright and hot as hell, and the flight deck was set up in an obstacle course. Zahhak and Lejion were running a fire-hose pressurized pipe with a split you had to try and plug with a bed sheet (failed) Vriska and Nitram were directing 'wogs to find a plastic fish among a pile of shredded trash bags and water and more coffee (Dave found it) Karkat wandered past at one point, as Davy Jones' newest herald. You lost Engineering, found Deck, lost them and ended up with who knew what division. You sang 'We Are the Champions' for King Neptune (he ordered you all hosed down with sea water for your terrible singing) and had to swim down a long trough full of sea water and green dye for your final cleansing.

Someone grabbed your arm as you came up, gasping and eyes burning from the seawater. Captor, steadying you and pointing towards the stairs back down into the ship, and it was weird deja vu back to the day you arrived. But instead of 'sucks to be you, nub,' it was 'congrats, Shellback'.

You and Rose and Dave and Jade staggered for the ladder well, arms around each other’s shoulders and completely exhausted. And you thought, somewhere deep, that these were the coolest people you'd ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wog Day as presented here is no longer in the Navy, but this one was one of the last few to happen.


	13. Tyger Tyger, Burning Bright/In the Prank War of the Night

Saying goodbye to Vriska was hard.

You didn’t wait until the ship pulled into Jacksonville to do it. The night before, you got her to join you on the lifeboat sponson, about as private a conversation place as you could get without locking yourselves in a storeroom. It was a risk; just the act of sneaking off alone to talk could have gotten you both a stern talking-to, and if anyone had walked in on the brief kiss goodbye she gave you, you’d be fucked.

But no one came by, and she left you with a smirk that you’re pretty sure covered sadness, and you sat out on the sponson by yourself for a while, until one of the security rovers tripped over your leg.

O o o

You were still mopey the next day, when the ship pulled in. Sweltering August-in-Florida air would have been downright exotic a year ago; after summer in Bahrain and Dubai, it was refreshingly cool, even if you were hauling on the heavy lines that tied the ship to the pier. Most of your airdale friends were gathered in the hangar bay, ready to unload and leave; Karkat, Terezi, Maryam and Makara were all ship’s company, so you weren’t losing _all_ of them, but still. You’d grown to seriously like these people.

Terezi and Vriska were doing some kind of weird angry posturing thing at each other when you found them. Maryam caught your eye as you walked up and shook her head, so you stayed out of it. After a minute, Terezi made a face, Vriska rolled her eyes, and they gave each other the most sincere hug you’ve seen in a while. Their friendship was so _weird_.

You didn’t get much time to hang out with them. The brows came across, the order came over the hangar announcing, and the airdales started to file off. You found Megido and Captor, the former catching the latter between you and her in a big squishy three-way hug, much to Captor’s verbal displeasure. Ampora and Pexies both tried to say goodbye to you at the same time, but they ended up glaring at each other for some reason and you knew they’d had a falling out but this looked _bad_ but thank god for the distraction of Leijon because she put you in a headlock on her way past, until Zahhak dragged her away, nodding solemnly to you as they went. Vriska gave you one last salute on her way off, followed by Nitram carrying her seabag and his own, and then they were all gone, a milling crowd of people on the pier piling into buses and the hangar bay felt _empty_.

O o o

Jane found you the next day, drearily pushing a broom. You didn’t have to be on board just then, but you had no interest in seeing Jacksonville and you still felt sad at losing half of your friend group. “Come on,” she said, gentler than she could have. “Today is the hilarity of Tiger Cruise; at least come watch all of the families try and figure out security.”

Tiger Cruise was another Grand Naval Tradition, where families of the sailors would come on board for the last leg of the journey home and generally get in the way for a week. You found out about it a little too late to get your dad on board, but Jane was right; watching a bunch of civilians try and get themselves and their luggage up the brow would be hilarious.

Jade joined you both on the pier, right in a prime shady spot off to the side and yeah, this was perfect. Some lady got in an argument with security over whether her dauschaund could come on board and you and Jade were taking bets over who would win, when from behind you, you heard a dual, eerily synchronized “Hello, John.”

You whipped around. Two nearly-identical men stood there, wearing identical clothes and puffing on identical pipes at the edge of the off-ship smoking pit like some bizarrely domestic version of the twins from the Shining.

“Dad!” you yelled, launching yourself at the figure on the right.

Your uncle frowned at you, pouting as much as a stern fatherly man could. “You don’t even recognize your own father over this imposter, John? I’m hurt.”

“Shut up, dad,” Jane said fondly, hugging her father around the waist.

Your dad looked at your uncle over your head and sighed. “Such ungrateful children. Can’t even identify their own parents.”

“Jane’s right, you lunatics,” you said, deliberately squeezing your dad tighter. He grunted and accepted the challenge, his arms tightening around you until your breath wheezed out of you and you tapped, laughing breathlessly. “What the hell?” you asked, when he finally let you go. “You couldn’t warn me?”

“Jane extended the invitation,” your dad explained.

“To the both of us,” your uncle added. Oh no. Not this weird twin horseshit.

“Said her friend was willing to sponsor one of us and she the other-“

“Such polite young ladies-“

“Nice to meet you, by the way, Ms. Harley-“

“Told us it was a surprise for you-“

“Couldn’t _bear_ to ruin it-“

“I’d say it turned out well.”

They finished in chorus and puffed on their pipes and you’d never been able to figure out if they rehearsed this bullshit or if it came naturally. Jane rolled her eyes. Jade boggled.

“So, wait.” You pointed at Jane “Yay, surprise for me, you got me good, but they can’t stay in your berthing.”

Jane smiled sweetly. “Did me mention that we talked to the Deck LPO about having them live in _your_ berthing?”

Oh god.

O o o

Sure as shit, when you looked at the list of tigers living in your berthing for the next week, ‘Mr J. Egbert’ and ‘Mr. J. Crocker ‘ were listed, one right after the other, in the rack-pack across from yours. You were pretty convinced that your LPO either posted fake names on a previous list, or contrived that you never got to see the list until pull-in day. You had to bow to Jane’s superior pranking skills.

You really couldn’t be mad, though. Despite yourself, you’d missed your dad in the months since you went to Boot Camp. And with you no longer being stationed in Washington, this might be the last time for a while you’d get to see him. Even if it was going to be a week of weird twin horseshit and waking up with toothpaste in your boots.

You still had duties to attend to and work to do, but even though they weren’t _technically_ your tigers, your LPO agreed that you’d get the same lighter work load that week that the others with families got. Which he totally didn’t have to do and you immediately forgave him for any part he had in setting up this prank.

Day one passed innocently enough. You got both of them checked in and unpacked into the racks assigned to them, and then you and Jane took them on a walking tour of the ship, to the important places like the mess decks and the hangar bay and the smoke pit. In the hangar, you found a table set up where tigers could get ‘Tiger Qual Cards’, little pamphlets with a map and some ship trivia and a treasure hunt for interesting workshops and spaces (and a big fat warning to stay out of the nuke areas) It was something neat for tigers to do if their sponsors were on watch or something. They also got ‘Tiger Cruise 2012’ t-shirts and after a trip to the head, both of them insisted on wearing them over their neatly-pressed button-ups and they gave bland looks to anyone who stared at them oddly.

You saw Jake at one point and he did the greatest double-take.

O o o

Day two didn’t dawn with toothpaste in your boots. They opted for wadded-up paper towels instead. They weren’t in the berthing.

You assumed they were with Jane because the alternative was terrifying, and you went up to help the ship get underway. As soon as you were able, you slipped away from the line handling crew and found Jane in the bakeshop. She thought they were with you. A call to Jade’s shop confirmed that they weren’t with her.

You were about to panic when one of the other cooks walked in. “Man,” he said, shaking his head. “Some tiger just gave me the weirdest case of _déjà vu_. I swear I’ve seen him like ten times today, but it was always somewhere different.”

You and Jane looked at each other, then hustled out.

You found her dad, first. He was walking down the p-way, his hands in his pockets and smiling politely to the people he passed. Your dad wasn’t in sight.

Jane hustled after her dad. You headed back the way he came. Your dad was a moment later – his hands in his pockets, smiling politely at the people your uncle just passed. He brightened when he saw you.

After catching up with the Crockers, you learned that they’d spent all morning either walking the p-ways or strolling into the smoke pit just a bit staggered from each other, garnering double-takes and a lot of ‘didn’t I just see you…?’ from people.

You and Jane were the children of a huge pair of jerks.

At dinner, the four of you sat together and you covertly plugged the top of the salt shaker with a napkin while Jane snunk a bunch of hot sauce into her dad’s rice.

You and Jane were also jerks.

O o o

Day three served to remind you that while they were creepily alike, your father and his brother were not the same person.

Namely, uncle Crocker was sea-sick, your dad was not.

Jane appeared after breakfast with a mug of hot water and a ginger teabag. After you shook the feathers out of your coveralls and swept, you took your dad out to the lifeboat sponson where you’d said goodbye to Vriska.

Looking out at the gorgeous, though choppy, morning Atlantic, you found yourself telling your dad about everything that had happened since you got to the ship; the friends you made, the adventures in foreign ports, the way the days blended into weeks of sameness like a crappy version of Groundhog Day but without Bill Murray.

You didn’t go into detail, but you brought up Vriska, and Karkat’s confession. Your dad didn’t offer up any advice, not that you really wanted any, but he dropped his arm over your shoulders and squeezed fondly. It was enough.

Lunch sailed right on by and you met the Crockers for dinner again. Your dad smiled sweetly at his brother’s grey complexion and suggested you all get the fish for dinner. He regretted it when it turned out uncle Crocker was very adept at sneaking soy sauce into your dad’s soda. Like father, like daughter.

O o o

Day four started at 0330 for you, since you had the early watch on the bridge. You snuck your dad’s pipe out of his pocket and packed it with red pepper you’d gotten from Jane, then went to watch.

You were on your way back down after watch, wondering how your prank had gone, when Dave found you. “Hey yo,” he greeted. “Got a few before you meet up with your batshit family?

“What do you know about my batshit family?” you shot back, leading the way to a nearby alcove.

Dave hefted the camera bag in his hand. “I’ve been snapping candids since day one,” he said. “Your dad and uncle are in the B-G of, like, half of them. It’s the freakiest polite photobombing I’ve ever seen, some kind of fucked-up Where’s Waldo except Waldo is a fedora-wearing business man.”

“Story of my life, dude,” you agreed. “What’s up?”

“Wanted to know if you wanted to get a place when we get back,” he said, crossing his arms. “My bro is dating English now and I do _not_ want to get in the middle of that disaster, nor do I want to _hear_ it at night-“

“Dave, ew.”

“-So I asked Karkat because I saw him first but two lowly E-nothings don’t make enough to maintain even a small place between them, so we want a third. Come join our man-harem.”

“Me, you and Karkat?” you said dubiously. “We’d drive each other insane.”

“Probably,” Dave said agreeably. “But so will living on the ship. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

You mulled it over for another five seconds. “You know what? Let’s do it. Having Karkat knock my teeth in is how I want to die.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Dave grinned back. “We’ll start looking for a place after we get to Virginia. Some of my leadership has lived there before; I can ask them where to start.”

“Awesome.” You continued your trek below, Dave behind you. “Now, to go find my batshit family. I left my dad a pepperbomb in his pipe this morning and I want to see how it turned out.”

“You’re a man with a death wish, Egbert,” Dave declared, as you both entered your berthing. “I’ve seen your dad; I wouldn’t prank that if you paid me.”

“Bluh, bluh.” You undid the lock on your rack storage. “He _looks_ like a stern, fatherly businessman, but he’s-“

The duct-tape trigger snapped a second after you noticed it, and far too late to do anything about it. The rigged can of Barbasol under your pillow made a very polite popping noise, and you slammed your rack up as fast as you could. The latch caught, propping your rack up just in time for the can to loose its contents all over your bedding. With the rack propped open, it didn’t have anywhere to go _but_ your bedding, instead of all over the floor, you, Dave, and the rack facing yours. Damage to other people’s stuff, neutralized. 

When the aerosol hissing stopped, you lowered your rack. The entire space between your mattress and the rack above you, from wall to curtain, from head to foot, was filled with Barbasol. You were absurdly glad you never bought your own blanket and sheets, because the Navy-issue ones on your rack were _fucked_.

“That’s why I wouldn’t prank him,” Dave said mildly. “Your dad is a deadly force to be reckoned with, John.”

You sighed and went to go find a bucket and a trash bag.

After dumping the sheets and blanket in the laundry, you discovered that at least they wrapped your mattress in trash bags before they set the trap. It smelled like shaving cream, but it wasn’t soaked like your pillow. 

You stole another pillow from a rack still empty and remade your bed. The feathers from your poor, shaving-cream-soaked pillow got divided, stuffed into plastic bags, and rigged to the inside of both your dad and uncle’s suitcases. Dave watched you work and told you he’d light a candle at your funeral.

When you found your family, your dad looked a little red around the eyes, and your uncle cheerfully told you the tale of how he didn’t check _what_ was in his pipe before lighting it and almost gassed out the entire smoke pit with burning pepper. You didn’t say anything about their gift for you.

They started doing the weird twin bullshit again into the evening, which honestly suited you just fine. Because it meant that when they walked into the berthing and opened their suit cases to get their stuff to shower, they did so at almost exactly the same time.

Wet feathers didn’t fly far, but they flew far enough. You grinned at the two stunned and feathered parents, retrieved your toothbrush, and went to clean up for the night.

The ship was _your_ domain, and you thought you defended it well.

O o o

Day five didn’t start with a prank. Instead, when you got up, you found only a note in your pocket.

‘YOU HAVE ACHIEVED A LEVEL OF JAPERY YOUR GRANDMOTHER WOULD HAVE ENVIED. I AM SO VERY, VERY PROUD OF YOU.’

O o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Racks are basically metal boxes with curtains on the open side. There's a mattress on the bottom and the mattress hinges up to a storage space barely tall enough to stash an energy drink upright. There's about 18 inches between you and the one stacked above you. You get used to the claustrophobia.
> 
> ONE CHAPTER LEFT.


	14. Home again, home again

Day six was pull-in.

This was weird. Being back in the US was weird. You were only with the ship about five months, plus two in the time-warp limbo of Boot Camp, and this was weird. 

There were crowds on the pier, waving and cheering and a little band played 'The Star-Spangled Banner' off to one side. A lot of families, a lot of wives with little kids, a few parents, and it was weird. How did you deal with civilians, American civilians, as a military member? Overseas, it was whatever, you didn't speak the local language and you were more or less a tourist. Here, though? It was home and all of these people were cheering at you and someone had a 'SUPPORT OUR SAILORS' banner and it was weird.

A hand clapped on your shoulder and you jumped about fifty feet. You looked from warily eying the crowds on the approaching pier to warily eying Jake, who was all decked out in safety gear and carrying the rifle used to launch the mooring lines onto the pier. "You get used to it," he said, not unkindly. "Wave back, smile a lot. It's homecoming for us, but it's a parade for them."

"Home is three timezones west of here," you said, but you took his advice and waved at the people on the pier. One little kid grinned widely and pointed at you, saying something to the little old man standing behind him. Okay. You could do this.

Jake coughed, apologetic. "I do need you to clear the sponson, though," he said. "I've got to launch the lines."

"Oh. Whoops." Yup, the rest of your division was back inside, and you hurried to join them.

Two gunshots later and you all went back out to haul in the ship, heaving lines while the tugs shoved the carrier into place. Everything got lashed down and the rat guards dropped into place and then you were officially Moored in your new homeport.

They dropped the brow while you were all working, and the guy who won the first kiss raffle stepped off to kiss his wife. You thought of Vriska and got weird and sad all over again. Bluh.

Your dad and uncle were flying back to Washington in the evening, so you said your goodbyes in the parking lot across from the ship and piled them into a taxi. After they drove off, you and Jane just kind of stood there for a minute, leaning against each others shoulders, until someone practically bodyslammed into you, arms around your neck and giggles in your ears.

"There you are!" Roxy laughed into your hair. "Come on, Dirk is treating us all to pizza on that sweet reenlistment bonus."

"It's not _that_ sweet," Dirk protested. Dave and Jake were with him, Rose and Jade just behind and frog-marching Karkat between them. "It's not even at the upper limit."

Dave punched Dirk in the shoulder. "You got more than a hundred grand for another four years of your life," he pointed out. "It _is_ that sweet. Shoosh. Also, tell Karkles he's invited, he keeps trying to escape."

Dirk tipped his head to look at Karkat over the top of his douchebag shades, then shrugged. "I hate you all so much," Karkat grumbled.

You and Dave shoved Karkat ahead of you into the van-taxi that Rose flagged down and everyone else piled in around and on top of you. The driver didn't care that Jade was stretched across your and Karkat's lap, or that Rose and Roxy were curled up in the luggage storage in the very back. He also drove like a lunatic. Jane won the paper-scissors-rock with Jake for the front seat and was calling out directions from her phone to a place you'd never heard of. You had Dirk's elbow in your ribs and your leg was going numb from Jade's butt and it was the most okay you'd been all day.

"Oh my god," Dave said, almost reverently.

"Did you finally find a chest hair?" Dirk asked.

"Son of the Baconator," Dave replied. "That Wendy's had a sign, not for the Baconator but the Son of. You know how long it's been since I've had real pig bacon? And they're over here with heirs to this shit. Baconator the sequel. Baconator 2: Pork Boogaloo."

"God bless America," Rose said dryly from the very back.

You tried really hard to not laugh in Jade's face and you failed miserably. But it was okay because she laughed right back, ducking her head to giggle into Karkat's shoulder. And then you were all laughing and Jane was still trying to speak correct directions to the driver and you were going to be okay.

You still didn't know what rate you wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this is kind of super self-indulgent. I am a nuke on board a carrier, and I was on the deployment described here. Everything the ship does in this fic, and all of the descriptions of shipboard life, are true to life. I'm trying to keep it as civ-friendly as possible, but if I start wandering off on acronym tangents, please, kick me.
> 
> And after nearly two years, this story is complete.


End file.
